


The Hunt

by Punk_Grape



Category: Splatoon
Genre: AU, Medieval
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 10:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20357116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Grape/pseuds/Punk_Grape
Summary: Just taken from his home, Rider wants nothing more than to escape and go back home.





	The Hunt

Rider gave an angry huff as he felt hands tighten around his waist when he moved even an inch. “I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t try to escape while we’re riding.” Emperor raised a brow but remained silent, and loosened his grip slightly. They had been travelling for a few hours by that point, and Rider nearly wished he’d chosen death. Nearly. 

He still was far from happy from being taken prisoner, and sincerely hoped what he was planning would work. “Can we stop, my ass is sore,” Rider began, he never liked horses since he fell from one as a child, and would prefer to be off it. “I gotta take a leak, unless you’d like me to wet the saddle, you highness,” he hissed as he addressed Emperor. 

The king’s hand flew up, signalling his following to stop. “Very well,” Emperor said, and nodded to a nearby guard. “Take him just off the path, he’s behaved, we can afford him some privacy.” That was all Rider wanted, some privacy, enough leeway to escape. 

Emperor was no stranger to prisoners; he’d taken a few in the past, though he generally disliked taking anyone, too much effort. But this Rider, he had so much fire in him, he could be entertaining; he knew he had to keep an eye on him, that much fire would try to get out of his control, to escape. He was proven correct when he heard a guard yell out “Son of a bitch!” with a rather loud groan of pain. 

With a sigh, gold eyes scanned for movement as he pulled his bow out, and saw exactly what he needed; Rider was running in a straight line away from them, it was foolish. The sharp twang of the bowstring as he let loose the arrow whipped passed his cheek, eyes unmoving from his intended target. In the distance, a strangled yelp could be heard; he had managed to not hurt him, that much Emperor could tell. “Wait here,” he told the others, then went to retrieve his arrow, and the prisoner attached to it. 

Rider had been running, fast as his legs could carry him, when an arrow flew towards him, grazing his thigh as it pinned fabric to a tree he’d been passing by. It had scared him, the arrow seemingly coming from no where, until he heard a chuckle, and his blood boiled. “I do believe it was come peacefully or die by my blade, was that not the agreement?” 

“I came with you peacefully, you said nothing about remaining peaceful afterwards,” Rider spat, his contempt for the king only growing. 

Emperor laughed as he grabbed hold of Rider’s wrist with one hand, and the arrow with the other, then pulled. “Very well, you are indeed correct. But, consider this a warning. Hurt my men again and run off, I will kill you when I find you.” Caught up in his thoughts, Rider was mostly easy to drag back to the horse; occasionally he would try to drop his weight, claw at the king, even try to kick him, but Emperor held tight, and in no time they were back on the horse, back on the road. 

“Your little stunt cost us precious time, looks like we’ll have to make camp for the night.” Rider’s heart thumped in his chest, maybe then he could escape, while everyone was asleep. He was pulled from his mind when he felt the sharp tip of the arrow grazing his leg, close to where it had skimmed earlier. 

Shivers ran through him, he was at the king’s mercy, he had an arrow moments away from possibly stabbing him, and another hand secured around his midsection, squeezing tight enough he thought he may bruise. Rider breathed a sigh of relief as the arrow was pulled away from his leg, only to find it pressed against his neck. “This arrow, it has your name on it. Run again and it will go much deeper than this,” Emperor said quietly, pressing the arrow tip into Rider’s neck. “Perhaps here, or maybe in that pretty little noggin of yours. Or let’s pretend it’s one of Cupid’s arrows, that will pierce your heart.” 

Rider was silent the entire ride until the stopped for the night, and he watched as camp was set up. The king, of course, got his own pavilion, not a big surprise to Rider, while the majority of the group simply sleeping on dirt ground, or bedrolls for the higher ups. Rider was not so lucky; hands tied behind his back, sleeping laying down would prove difficult, so instead any hope of sleep he had was sitting up. 

At least, that was what he muttered to himself, loud enough for a passing soldier to hear, to explain his sitting up; he rather be sitting up when he went to sneak off, it would make less noise. Darkness was quick to cover the encampment, and Rider closed his eyes, pretending to sleep and listening to the others settle down in slumber. 

Another set of eyes scanned the camp, looking for any movement; the king suspected Rider to make a move, he wasn’t tied down to anything, he could walk out any time. Though it would be foolish, he wouldn’t escape; perhaps Emperor could make this a game? Allow Rider a heads start, have him get a little far, enough so the king could track him and give chase; the thought had a smile spreading on his lips, he would enjoy this, should Rider choose to run. 

Run he did; two hours had passed when the captured noble rose to his feet, tip toeing through the sleeping mass, unaware that golden eyes watched his every movement. Much like a cat playing with its food, he watched which direction his prisoner went, and waited a moment; once he counted down from sixty, the king grabbed his bow and quiver, and took off. 

Silent as a stalking predator, Emperor walked through the trunks of towering trees, moonlight showing him trampled ground and snapped branches. ‘Where are you my fiery fox,’ he thought as he followed the footprints, ears picking up a distant patter of feet on fallen leaves. Pinpointing the noise, he drew an arrow and aimed it a bit to the right; the bowstring snapped back to place as the arrow was loosed, and a moment later, he heard a breathy “oh shit”. 

An arrow had whizzed passed his head, and Rider’s heart nearly stopped; how had he been found? Certain it was the king giving chase, Rider took off running once more, zigzagging through the trees. He was not about to get caught, get dragged back to camp to be taken to that asshole’s castle, Rider refused. Running had taken a toll on him, but only allowed himself to catch his breath once he could no longer hear anything moving. 

It seemed like he’d escaped, and for a split second, Rider took a breath; one that was soon released in a yelp as another arrow embedded itself in a tree he was leaned against, dangerously close to his groin. Groaning, Rider knew he couldn’t run again, he was spent; he had to find something, and his answer came in the form of a thick brush. Trying to calm his breathing, the noble listened as footsteps approached his location. 

“Shit, where’d he go,” Emperor muttered, and Rider nearly sighed in relief. He wasn’t aware, but the king was playing him; he knew exactly where he was, and was currently sneaking around the back of the brush while the night still remained. Morning was almost upon them, and Emperor had Rider in his sights; he’d make it back in time before his advisor began to worry too much. 

In the king’s hand was an arrow, which he used to press against Rider’s back; the other froze, realizing something sharp was being pushed against him. Fuck, he’d been found. “That was fun, birdie, but let’s not make it a habit of you trying to fly the coop. Come, let’s go.” He reached out and grabbed Rider’s arm, the grip too tight for comfort. 

Rider was too exhausted to fight, but he could still talk. “Let go of my arm, not like I can go anywhere.” 

“You’ve not been able to go anywhere, yet here we are,” Emperor replied dryly as the approached the camp. 

Rider slumped along, exhausted from his escape attempt, while Emperor dragged him over to his horse, ready to mount. “Go for a stroll?” the king heard, and spun to see his advisor, Eging Jr, though he preferred to drop the jr. 

“Mm, hunting trip more like.” He climbed into the saddle, and a few guards lifted Rider into position. “Snagged quite the prize.” 

He heard laughter from Eging, then spurred his horse to a simple trot. The sky was clear, sun warm on the skin, and Emperor was not surprised to find Rider fighting sleep. It didn’t take long for the king to feel a weight against his chest, telling him Rider had finally passed out. 

Eging hurried up to ride beside him, a curious eyebrow raised. The two conversed, Emperor occasionally felt Rider twitch against him, and a moan or two even escaped him. ‘What are you dreaming, my slick fox?’


End file.
